FFXV fanfic: Rifles And Robots (oneshot)

Fandom: Final Fantasy XVCharacters: Prompto Argentum. Noctis Lucis Caelum. Ignis Scientia. Gladiolus Amicitia.Chapter Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Implied death at the end.Word count: 649Notes: Spinoff from If the Ring Fits, because everyone on AO3 is an enabler. A different conclusion for the ‘Prompto is an MT’ AU, because a few people wanted the other 'bros to have a run in with the friendly shrieking robot.This was SUPPOSED to be cute, but that didn’t really pan out. Sorry, not sorry.Obligatory Disclaimer: I don’t own FFXV, since I’m not Square-Enix and I don’t even know anyone from Square-Enix. I don’t own the characters. I’m just playing with them.

He was already on his feet when he woke up, with a helmet on his head and wearing far too much armor. He could still feel the ring, digging into his knuckle beneath a gauntlet that may as well have been bonded to his skin for how tight it was.

He looked around and found himself lined up with dozens of others, all wearing the exact same armor. Considering how many of them he had filled full of bullets and riddled with holes, he could recognize magitek soldiers in an instant.

And he was lined up with them, like cattle. That wasn’t quite what he meant by ‘anywhere else.’

Prompto froze, staring at the ranks around him, as if he was going to suddenly snap out of it and wake up in the tent or the Regalia or a motel or anywhere else. It didn't happen, though, and he wasn't sure how to get to sleep. Did robots even sleep?

His attention jerked back into the moment as the airship shuddered and began its descent. Hovering a few yards over the ground, the gangplank dropped open and the MTs began to move, dropping down over the edge of the airship, jostling Prompto forward so he had no choice but to trip after them, tumbling out of the ship.

He landed in a heap in the sand. As he picked himself up, he couldn't really say he was surprised to see Noct, Ignis, and Gladio squaring off to face the dozen MTs, since that seemed to be the only reason the MTs ever got dropped. But still, he felt dread squeeze tight around his heart (or whatever he happened to have at that moment).

He lifted his gun--a rifle, but 'point, pull, repeat' was pretty easy to figure out even in other configurations--and took aim at the Assassin to his right, blowing a hole through its head. It crumpled into a heap of spare parts.

Noct, Ignis, and Gladio were staring. Though by the time Prompto blew the helmets off of two Axemen, the three of them jerked back into motion, joining the fray.

Afterwards, with Prompto surrounded by junked robots, he stared at his gun for a moment, then up at Noct, and then he sat down on the ground.

"…What just happened?" Noct finally asked, stabbing the tip of his sword into the sand and leaning on it.

"It…seems to have helped us," Ignis supplied, sounding about as perplexed as Prompto had ever heard him.

"Glitch in the Matrix?" Gladio suggested, weaving out of the way of the punch Noct aimed at his shoulder.

"What do we do with it?" Noct asked, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

"What, you wanna keep it?" Gladio asked, scandalized. "It's an MT."

"It helped us," Noct pointed out, trying for a reasonable tone. "I feel weird just…knocking its head off." Granted, Prompto wasn't really sure he would mind just then. He rather emphatically didn't want to be an MT, and if he had to get junked to stop being an MT then he was alright with one of his bros doing the junking.

"We have no way of knowing if it's going to turn on us later," Ignis pointed out, caught somewhere between bemused and concerned.

And that certainly gave Prompto pause. What if he did manage to fall asleep, or…whatever MTs did? Would this body still be a Prompto, or would it just go back to being a regular MT? And what if it happened while the others had their guards down?